Pink Lady
by Chelsea Oz
Summary: A one shot for Miss Vodkarocks. I thought of this piece while we were PMing each other. It's set in season one and Diane goes to work in hopes that she will for once and for all, get over the grief of her father's deathday.


Springtime in Boston was a supernatural time. A warm, pleasant spell was cast over the city as the buds on the trees sprouted and the neighborhood flowers were ready to bloom. Diane Chambers lived for the equinoxs. To her, spring was everything autumn was, just upside down and backwards. It was times like these that she could feel the veil of the supernatural world be lifted and it would leave her vulnerable. Especially on April 25th; the day her dad died.

That day would always be hard on her. As much as she knew her father was in heaven, her heart will forever be as heavy on the anniversary as the day his death actually happened. Everything she felt would flood back to her and she would always take the day of to let herself feel her grief out. It was the only sensible thing for her to do. However, this April 25th was a Saturday and it was Cheers' busiest night of the week. There was no backing out and with a heavy heart and a fake smile, she was going to go to work. As hard as it was going to be.

Diane did not want to dress in any way showing of mourning. She put on a floral skirt with a pastel pink polo. She painted her fingers and lips the same shade of pink with the only black part of her ensemble being her mascara. With a pair of white pumps, she was on her way. The sun helped to lighten her mood and she did her best to smile.

"I'm going to make this the best day I can," she promised herself as she stepped into the bar.

"Hey, Diane!" Coach greeted with a yell.

"Hello, Coach," Diane greeted back as she waved to her customers.

"Nice of Miss America to stop by on time for her shift," Carla taunted.

"Carla," Sam's voice boomed from the office. "Leave her alone."

"And good afternoon to you, Carla," Diane said to her, trying to be the better person. "Hello, Sam," she said to him through the office door without ever really getting a look at him.

"Hey, sweetheart," came his reply. Diane would never admit to how him calling her "sweetheart" made her heart melt a little. She smiled and went on with her work.

They seemed to be more swamped than usual on this Saturday. Everybody who worked there were on their feet through their whole shifts. How Diane wished she wore her comfortable shoes. She looked down at Carla's Nike sneakers and felt jealous.

"What are you looking at my feet for?" Carla asked once.

"You just look so comfy in your sneakers," Diane replied in all honesty.

"Well, dressing down has it's perks sometimes. You should try it sometime."

The clock had struck midnight and Diane felt triumphant. She promised herself that she wasn't going to cry for her father today and she didn't. She had patted herself on the back and went to sit down for the crowds were finally letting up.

"Tough night tonight, huh Diane?" Coach asked.

"Yeah," was all she said as she took off her pumps and rubbed her feet. The crowds never did come back. The next hour had been so boring that even Norm and Cliff packed up and left. Sam had sent Carla home early and she jumped at the chance.

"Hey, you could go home too if you want, Diane. You don't have to stick around here," Sam said.

"No, that's okay. I want to stick around if you don't mind."

"You want to help close up?"

"Sure."

"Okay, help Coach clean off the glasses."

"All right," Diane replied as she went behind the bar and began to help Coach. Diane had looked out the window the whole time and still nobody was coming in. She realized what a blessing the crowds had been for it helped to keep her mind preoccupied. Now it was just silence and her thoughts began to wander. She really had to snap herself out when the thoughts became about her father.

"Here you go, Diane," Coach said as he plunked down a pretty pink drink in front of her.

"Who's this for?"

"For you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you seemed a little down in the dumps and I thought I would cheer you up."

"Are you sure it's all right?"

"All right? Are you kidding? The Pink Lady was my wife's favorite."

"No, no," Diane said with a laugh. "I mean, I'm still on the clock."

"There's nobody here. Besides, only ten minuted until close."

"It's been that long?" She asked taking a sip. Has it been that long?

"What's been on your mind anyway?" Sam asked out of nowhere. Diane just noticed that he had been sitting next to her for sometime. Man, she really let herself go.

"Today's the anniversary of my father's death. I was thinking about him," Diane confessed, taking another sip and trying to choke back tears.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Sam said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay? I didn't know."

"I was so proud of myself. For the first time, I didn't cry today."

"Well, good for you," Coach said, it was his turn to pat her on the shoulder. "I can't bear to think about how Lisa would be about me dying. It was bad enough she had to go through it with her mother..."

It was Coach's turn to get choked up. He put his thumb and his forefinger to the bridge of his nose while Diane rubbed his back. That was when Coach put his arm around her and kissed her cheek.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Diane said, putting her hand on his back. "I've got to thank you."

"For what?"

"For having me work today. It was because of being around you guys and being in this bar that I didn't cry for my father for the first time in years. I will be eternally grateful for that."

"You're welcome."

Sam Malone would never let on how much he was touched by Diane Chambers in that moment.


End file.
